


To Continue On

by TychoBrandt



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls III
Genre: All is over, And things carry on, Gen, With or Without You
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:29:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23963902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TychoBrandt/pseuds/TychoBrandt
Summary: It is no different than dying over and over again.The difference now is that you need not die any more.
Kudos: 13





	To Continue On

“I have died so many times. I would awake, and wonder who I was. What I was. What nature of thing. I would wonder if I was man or woman, so great was my confusion.” 

\---

“Your mask,” he says.

She touches it without thinking.

“You still wear it. But… now… it would not make much difference as of now, would it?”

She works her throat. 

Later, when he is asleep—twitching and muttering the names of the dead—she fumbles at the straps at the back of her head. When they are undone, she holds on to them a little longer, all the same.

Then she lets go and removes the mask.

She feels wind and chill between her eyes. She could weep, she thinks. But instead, she smiles.

\---

“May I…” He hesitates. He averts his eyes and looks at nothing. He takes a breath and continues: “May I see your face?”

“Close thy eyes.”

He does not understand. He does so anyway.

He hears the sound—movement of metal and hair—and then he feels her hands upon his. He is still.

She lifts his hands to her face. At first he does not move at all. Then, carefully, he lets his fingers gently ghost over her brow, her cheekbones, her jaw. His hands are faintly warm, now, not the cold bearers-of-arms they used to be. But they are still coarsened and calloused, so much so that she doubts he can feel anything at all.

“So that is what you look like,” he murmurs. 

“What didst thou expect?”

“I… do not know.” He withdraws his hands. His arms hang at his sides.

She reaches out and touches his face. He begins to turn away—but he stops, and instead meets her hand.

“I do not even know what I look like,” he says quietly. He grunts when she accidentally jabs him in the ear with her thumb.

\---

The world is dark and colorless but in time they see in their own way.


End file.
